A Richness At the Edge of the World
by OmniHelix
Summary: Strongly AU. An occasional series of drabbles and one-shots as sequels to my story "The Veil of Necessity, in which Finn did not die, but lives in seclusion in Costa Rica, hiding from the Mob, whose murder he witnessed. Rachel has joined him, and they live there under assumed names. Rated M for adult themes. I recommend reading that story first.


**A/N: A reminder: in the story "The Veil of Necessity", Rachel and Finn changed their names to Miriam (Miri) and Nicolas (Nick) **

She awoke before moonset, 3 AM, to ghostly light filling their bedroom and the murmur of the surf. Her hand rubbed her belly absently; the baby was dozing, in contrast to the ninja moves that so delighted his father last night. His relative stillness did not stop him from squeezing her poor bladder, though, and Miri carefully pulled back the covers so as not to wake her husband or the dog. The almost-cool, pre-dawn air felt good on her legs and arms. Carefully sliding out of bed, she padded, barefoot, into the bathroom.

The baby remained sleeping as she relieved herself. What was he dreaming about, she wondered, curled up so warmly inside her? Did the dreams involve the sounds of his world, the solemn beating of her heart, the air rushing in and out of her lungs? Her muffled voice? His father's voice? She washed her hands and headed to the kitchen for a drink of water.

The world outside was awash in pale light. From the sink Miri could see the avocado and mango trees etching rich, shifting shadows on the ground, in response to the soft breeze ruffling the pretty yellow curtains in the open window. The feel of the air on her skin aroused and amused her: her cravings didn't always involve food, it seemed. Standing at the sink, hands clasped under her belly, she contemplated awakening Nick, but decided against it. He had earned his sleep, especially with the boat contract deadline approaching. Miri had given his shoulders a deep massage earlier, just to get him to relax enough to rest. So she slipped out of her panties, pulled off her sleep shirt, and stepped outside.

The sand felt good between her toes. Miri could see the faint luminescence of the whitecaps in the distance beckoning her. The thought of the warm salt water buoying her up and relieving the stress on her muscles and ligaments brought a quickness to her pace across the sand. She supported her belly with one hand, brought her other arm across her breasts, and rushed across the beach until she splashed into the creamy surf, up to her waist. The sudden flush of warm water between her legs forced an erotic current to surge through her and she regretted not waking her husband now and laughed gaily, carefree, leaning back to float upon the dark water. The rushing of the surf was like a prayer and the gentle lapping of the waves rocked her in its cradle, a cradle for her and her baby, and the lust gave way quickly to peace. She didn't think she had ever been happier in her life.

She turned her head to watch the moon, huge and swollen, bobbing up and down, casting its silver path across the water to the horizon, washing out all but the brightest stars in the dark velvet sky. It reminded her of that moonlit night in Lima when she and Finn (she could never think of him as Nick when remembering high school) had gone skinny-dipping in the lake for the first time. It had been only a couple of weeks after their triumph at Nationals, before he sent her away on the train, and the heartbreak began. She chuckled to think how reluctant she was at first, wanting to stay in just her underwear, but when she saw Finn stripped to the buff in the moonlight, all her inhibitions fled.

She felt the baby stir, and wondered if her son would awaken like his father: slowly, reluctantly, eyelashes fluttering, lips smacking. She wondered if he would look like the son she bore in the dream she had a week after Finn's funeral. Part of her wanted him born now, so she could kiss his head as he suckled at her breast, in the nursery rocking chair Nick had built. But here, bobbing in the water, the soreness in her body easing away, Miri embraced the deep intimacy she had with her baby now, just the two of them, as they counted down the days till they could meet, face-to-face.

He was asleep again. She turned her head towards the shore and saw Molly sitting at the water's edge, watching up and down the beach, guarding her and her son, as Nick had taught her. She rolled over and began to swim, parallel to the shore, in a relaxed, lazy crawl. The smooth movement of her muscles felt wonderful; lately, on land, Miri's new ungainliness bothered her at times. She sometimes caught herself imagining Nick and their friends—even her theatre colleagues—joking about her appearance, and often felt silly asking Nick to do things for her.

"You don't have to be so goddamned independent all of the time," he growled one day. "It's okay to let me do things for you."

"And the baby," she corrected, irritable, wanting to start a fight, God knows why. And she didn't appreciate that he just laughed, and put his arms around her whale-like body. Surely he was tired of her looking like…_this_.

But to no avail. Miri could never resist Nick's adoring look for long. And later, in bed, when he rubbed the cocoa-butter lotion on her belly, getting her to purr and stretch like some horribly-spoiled cat, contentedness washed over her like the ocean was washing over her now. She stopped swimming, and found her footing again. Molly, ever-watchful, had followed her down the beach. Her baby was still asleep. She let the waves gently jostle her for a little while longer, and then emerged from the surf feeling relaxed and sleepy again.

There were lights on in the house. Damn, she was sure she had turned all of them off. Nick must be up. Maybe he was making coffee. Or, better yet, breakfast.

"Come on, Molly," she called out, enjoying how her body felt less stressed after the little swim. She supported her belly again with her right hand, but left her breasts free, as the breeze cooled her wet skin.

Her son remained asleep, and again she wondered what he was dreaming. What if, as she swam, he heard the distant calls of whales? Would he remember them?

She wanted to ask him so many things. She wondered if he knew how much he would be loved.

She could tell him a few things about that.


End file.
